Professor Layton and the Uncomfortable Teatime
by ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: Descole comes round for tea, much to Layton's surprise. But why?
1. Cup 1

**Professor Layton and the Uncomfortable Teatime**

Layton sat on the edge of his couch, cradling a rather warm teacup between his hands. He glanced at the man across from him, waiting for an answer. He had never expected this, not _once_, and yet…here he was.

"Well, Layton? Aren't you going to offer me a biscuit?"

"Ah, yes. My apologies. Would you fancy a snack?" Layton held up the plate of cookies.

"No, sweets are not to my taste, thank you."

_Then why did you ask?_ Layton thought dully. "Well, Descole…this is certainly a…surprise."

"To you, Layton. Not to me. This has been a long time coming, you see." Descole sipped his tea elegantly. He looked around the room—or rather, Layton guessed that was what he was doing, as his infernal mask put his eyes under constant shadows—and smirked. "How…quaint. I suppose you aren't making very much, are you? You've done rather well despite yourself, then."

Layton frowned. "A true gentleman does not inquire about another's pay, Descole."

"It was rhetorical, Layton. I expected you to realize that—you are a professor, after all. Or was English never your strong suit?" He chuckled.

"Why are you here, Descole?"

"Oh? Tiring of me already? That's no good, Mr. Host." Descole shook his head, tapping his mask with his forefinger. "A true gentleman is always polite, no matter how unpleasant the company."

"A true gentleman also feels no need to _cover his face_, Mr. Descole. Why won't you tell me who you are? There is no logical reason for this course of action."

"To you, perhaps. However, I am not you, and I therefore have my own reasons for dressing as I do." Descole smiled, running his hands over his furry muffler. "However, I have come today to—"

A door slammed somewhere in the hallway. "Professor! We were let out a bit early today, professor, so I thought I'd come visit you!"

Before Layton could react, Luke's small face appeared around the doorway.

"Good afternoon, professor! I—_Descole!_" Luke grit his teeth and glared at the man, who merely smiled back at him.

"Ah, your innocent charge has arrived, Layton."

"Why is _he_ here, professor?" Luke asked, still shooting dirty looks in Descole's direction.

"Calm yourself, Luke. He's merely come for a chat. Would you care for a biscuit?" Layton offered the tray. Luke ignored him.

"I don't understand it, professor. Why would you let a villain like _him_ in?" Luke growled, clutching his messenger bag tightly in his small fists.

"Call off your dog, Layton," Descole said placidly, taking another sip of tea.

"Everything is fine, Luke. Go to the kitchen and see Rosa, I'm sure she'll have an after school snack waiting for you," Layton said.

"But professor—" Luke protested.

"Go, Luke," Layton replied. "Please, if you wouldn't mind."

Hesitantly, Luke turned and went back into the hall. Descole gave a loud laugh. "Well done, Layton. And here I thought you were going to invite him in for tea."

"I won't stand for your company much longer if you insist on presenting such an attitude. Why are you here, Descole?"

"Oh, you never liked time wasters, did you, professor?" Descole chuckled. "Well, I can't say I ever have, either."

"_Descole_…" Layton warned.

"Very well." Descole sighed, placing his teacup carefully on the coffee table. "I shall tell you. You see, after you _destroyed_ the detragigantor, my _life's work—_"

"If you are trying to make me feel guilty, Descole, you won't succeed. You endangered many people's lives with that contraption."

"_In the name of science,_ professor!"

"It doesn't matter. Your ethics leave quite a lot to be desired. Now, continue. Why did you come?"

"I decided I would pay the man that ruined my life not _once_ but_ thrice_, to see how he and his…_ah_…little friends were doing. How are they, professor? How is Janice? I see that—what was his name? Ah, Luke—Luke is energetic as ever."

"Are you threatening me, Descole?" The professor put his teacup down.

"No, I am not _threatening you, _Layton," Descole said with a grimace. "I have no _need_ to threaten you. If I wished to harm your pathetic sheep, I would have done so already. No, I am merely _reminding you_ of what has happened. I do not forgive so easily, professor, and you have wronged me many times. I am merely warning you of what is to come."

"Consider me warned, Descole." The professor adjusted his hat.

"Then, I shall take my leave." Descole stood, his long cape falling around his shoulders.

"Wait, Descole. I have one more question for you."

"What is it, Layton? I am a busy man."

"You said I wronged you thrice. I assume that you are speaking of Ambrosia and Mist Haley, of course. But what was the third wronging?"

Descole smiled bitterly. "I will leave that to your imagination. Good day, Layton." He bowed, then swept out of the room, leaving Layton with naught but his thoughts to accompany him. Whatever had he meant?


	2. Cup 2

**Professor Layton and the Uncomfortable Teatime –Part 2—**

Layton stared down at the textbook before him. He had been reading it for at least an hour. Well, he had been _trying_ to read it for an hour. To his great irritation, his eyes kept slipping between the lines and he had read the same sentence over ten times now, taking nothing in as he did so. Is this how his students felt?

The reason for the sudden lack of attention was clear: Descole. Layton had believed that Descole's visit was a one time thing, something meant merely to remind Layton that he was still out there, waiting. No. Perhaps Layton had just _wanted_ to believe it would be a one time thing. In any case, Descole was now making it quite clear that his presence would be a continued thing.

Layton sighed and shut the book. Beneath the back cover was a small, neatly folded letter, one written in perfect script on disgustingly expensive paper. It was from Descole, of course, and the professor had read it many times over. Even so, he had still not gleaned a hint of the man's intentions. Did he mean to threaten Layton? To harass him? To guilt him?

"Professor! The tea is ready!" Luke called form the other room. After a few minutes, again, "Professor?"

Layton looked up. "Ah, yes. Sorry, my boy. I'll be right with you." He rose, tucking the letter into the pocket of his trousers, then went to the living room.

"I tidied up a bit, professor. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Luke. Quite the contrary. I must thank you."

"It wasn't a problem at all!" Luke replied, beaming. Layton smiled. The boy's cheerfulness was rather contagious. "Do you want sugar in yours, professor?"

"No, thank you." With a sudden guilty pang, Layton wondered whether he was putting Luke in danger by allowing him to visit so frequently. Would Descole harm such an innocent boy?

Yes, of course he would. It was Descole, after all. Innocence meant nothing to him.

"Are you alright, professor? You look pale. Are you getting sick?" Luke asked fretfully, tilting his head and looking up at his mentor with wide eyes.

"No, no. Don't worry about me." Layton shook his head, tapping the boy's hat down over his eyes teasingly.

"Hey!" Luke exclaimed, pushing it back so he could see again. Layton merely smiled back. But it was a tired smile, and Luke could tell. "Professor… is it… no, never mind."

"What is it, my boy?"

"Nothing."

"Spit it out. You'll feel better in the long run," Layton said. His words sounded hypocritical in his ears. Then again, it was the adult's job to listen to the young and impart advice, was it not?

"Well, I mean…." Luke fidgeted in his seat, as he was apt to do when nervous. "I just…is it bothersome for me to come over?"

Layton put his teacup back on the saucer and placed it lightly on the coffee table. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Well, I mean, I… I don't know. I just thought, since you're always so busy, maybe it's bad that I come over all the time. Maybe it annoys you." He laughed sheepishly and grinning an anxious grin.

"No, my boy. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're quite the help to me, you know. Without you, I doubt I'd ever be able to find anything. There would be mountains of papers and not an ounce of sense in one of them."

"Are…are you sure, professor?"

Layton nodded. "You're my apprentice number one, after all."


End file.
